THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA. 


WILLIAM  P.  JONES,  A.M., 

LATE    PRESIDENT   OF   THE   NORTHWESTERN    FEMALE    COLLEGE, 
EVANSTON.    ILL. 


CHICAGO: 
S.  C.  GEIGGS  AND  COMPANY. 

1876. 


COPYRIGHT,  1875, 
Bv  S.  C.  GRIGGS  &  COMPANY. 


[     KNIGHT~R  LEONARD      1 

"%S^ 


1  £ 


TO  HER, 

WHO   HAS   ILLUSTRATED 

WOMANLY  FAITHFULNESS  AND  DEVOTION, 

AS  XI)  POET'S  YERSE  OR  GRAVER'S  BURIN 

COULD  EVER  DO, 

THIS  SIMPLE  SONG  IS 

AFFECTIONATELY   INSCRIBED. 


759455 


PREFACE. 


is  an  echo  of  one  of  those  fast-expiring  songs 
of  the  wilderness,  which,  only  a  few  years  ago, 
filled  all  this  grand  western  world  with  poetry. 
It  is  a  simple  song,  but  the  untutored  ^Eolian  sounding 
in  some  splintered  forest  bough  has  found  a  well-pleased 
listener,  and  so,  perchance,  may  this. 

How  often  have  I  sat  in  the  pilot-house,  or  on  the 
deck  of  the  good  old-time  Mississippi  steamers,  when 
river  and  island  and  darkly-wooded  shores,  wrapt  in 
the  weird  moonlight,  seemed  a  ghost  realm ;  —  when 
the  breath  of  the  throbbing  engines  streamed  over  us 
and  far  out  into  the  night  in  spark  and  flame-lit 
banners  of  snowy  steam  and  pitch-black  smoke,  whose 
wild  reflections  on  the  angry  waters  in  the  vessel's 
wake  glared  like  a  troop  of  pursuing  demons;  and 


6  PREFACE. 

then,  when  every  nerve  was  excited  to  utmost  tensity, 
listened  with  boyish  delight  to  the  pilots  and  fur- 
traders  reciting  the  thrilling  legends  of  our  rivers 
and  our  prairies! 

Not  seldom,  too,  have  I  sought  out  the  early  set 
tlers  and  the  Indians  themselves,  and  gathered  the 
wild  clusters  of  olden  story,  full  of  the  racy  wine  of 
the  wilderness,  fresh  from  their  own  lips. 

But  many  a  time  has  a  feeling  of  sadness  mingled 
with  my  listening  pleasure  at  thought,  that,  for  want 
of  chroniclers,  these  charming  lyrics  and  heroics  must 
be  lost  to  the  hereafter;  that  these  many-colored  leaves 
of  the  Indian  autumn,  which  should  be  pressed  between 
golden  covers  and  preserved  to  adorn  our  libraries, 
seemed  all  destined  to  an  early  burial  under  the  snows 
of  that  eternal  winter  which  must  soon  bring  oblivion 
to  the  last  of  the  Aborigines. 

The  themes  of  these  legends  are  as  various  as  the 
passions  of  the  human  heart.  The  life  of  the  wilder 
ness  stands  all  revealed  in  them:  its  deathless  friend 
ships  and  loves,  and  its  deadly  hates  and  cruelties ;  its 


PREFACE.  7 

heroics  of  fidelity  and  its  infamies  of  treachery.  Yes, 
the  cardinal  passions  —  (best  proof  of  the  unity  of 
mankind)  —  with  their  gleamings  of  sunshine  and 
flashes  of  lightning  rifting  the  darkness,  which  but 
for  them  would  have  been  oblivion  long  ago,  are  all 
at  play  here,  filling  our  woods  and  prairies  with  drama 
and  tragedy.  And  "Le  Grand  Passion"  of  the  world 
of  homes  and  palaces  is  the  grand  passion  here  also. 

If  any  one  charges  the  following  verses  with  an 
excess  of  tender  sentiment,  let  him  remember,  that,  in 
a  state  of  nature,  love  and  imagination  are  as  unre 
strained  of  growth  as  hate  and  revenge ;  and  let  the 
many  still  surviving  legends  of  the  tribes  attest  that 
no  more  extravagant  love-romances  have  ever  been 
sung  than  are  recited  around  Indian  camp  fires.  Every 
prominent  river-bluff  and  precipice  and  cavern  and 
lake  and  waterfall  once  had  its  story  of  love's  fruition 
or  suffering  and  devotion.  Here  it  was  a  wooing  and 
mating,  there  a  heart-breaking  and  suicide.  Why  all 
this,  if  the  Indian,  except  when  excited  by  the  lower 
appetites  and  passions,  is  all  stolidity? 


8  PREFACE. 

The  subject  of  this  little  poem  was  furnished  years 
ago  in  a  few  lines  of  the  journal  of  Lewis  and*  Clark's 
famous  expedition  to  the  head-waters  of  the  Missouri 
and  Columbia  rivers,  in  1804-5,  published  by  order  of 
Congress.  Much  of  the  material,  however,  has  been 
drawn  from  other  sources,  oral  and  written;  some  of 
which  are  referred  to  in  the  notes  at  the  close  of  the 
book,  for  which  a  careful  reading  is  bespoken. 

Do  I  hear  the  public  whispering,  "What  made  him 
do  it?"  What,  but  only  this;  —  to  show  yet  once 
again  that  the  theme  which  never  gets  stale,  the 
story  that  never  grows  old,  is  the  same  in  all  lands, 
and  among  all  peoples,  love  faithful  until  death,  aureole 
of  the  universal  sainthood. 


PKELUDE. 


OYE,  only,  is  the  universal  god. 

Whether  enthroned  as  Deity  above 
r 

Or  meekly  serving  on  earth's  humble  sod, 

Enshrined  in  man,  a  worshiped  human  love, 
All  nations  bow  to  it  and  call  it  lord, 
The  sole  Life-Essence !    everywhere  adored. 


THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL 


have  heard   it, —  the  pretty  romance  of 
Stone  Idol  ? 
I)3'     How  Indian  maids,  ere  they  robe  for  the  bridal, 

Send  thither  for  flowers? 
How  maidens  unwooed  plant  the  buds  in  their  tresses, 
And  lover  to  loved  one  his  passion  confesses 
With  a  sprig  from  its  bowers? 

How  the  maiden  beloved,  its  full  meaning  divining, 
If  she  take  it,  the  blooms  in  her  braidings  entwining, 

Wears  a  pledge  of  affiance? 

And  an  oath  by  Stone  Idol,  that  lover  will  never 
Prove  false  to  his  true  love,  but  love  her  forever, 

Wins  the  firmest  reliance. 


12  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

So  woman  ne'er  passes  that  way  but  she  turneth, 
Plucks  some  sprig  near  the  rock  and  a  sacrifice  burneth 

'Neath  this  monument  hoary. 
'Tis  a  popular  faith  — this  quaint  superstition  - 
Would  you  learn   how  it   sprang   from   an   ancient 
tradition  ? 

Then  list  to  the  story. 

'Twas  where  Missouri's  waters  flo>v 

Through  prairies  of  enameled  green, 
That  stretch  from  sunset's  peaks  of  snow 

To  Mississippi's  crystal  sheen ; 
Where  still  the  Indian  hunters  rove 

O'er  boundless  plains  from  woodlands  free, 
Save  here  and  there  a"  lovely  grove 

Set  like  an  islet  in  the  sea. 
Where  all  is  beauty  yet,  and  wild, 
Unwasted  by  the  pale-faced  child; 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     13 

In  region  such,  long  moons  ago, 
As  countless  as  the  shells  that  strew 
The  shores  Missouri's  waters  lave, 
There  lived  a  tribe  of  warriors  brave. 

The  years,  with  their  resistless  tide, 
Have  swept  this  valiant  band  away ;' 

Yet  not  with  them  their  memory  died ; 
Their  fame  hath  not  such  swift  decay ; 
Full  many  a  legendary  tale 
Still  holds  aside  oblivion's  veil 
And  speaks  to  men  of  other  days 
Those  ancient  warriors'  blame  or  praise, 
Attested  down  the  years  unknown 
By  pictograph  and  rough-hewn  stone,2 
Whereon,  in  symbols  rude,  are  read 
The  archives  of  a  nation  dead, 
With  bowlders,  mounds  and  mountain-rents, 
And  river  bluffs,  for  monuments. 


14  THE  MYTH   OF   STONE   IDOL. 

As  yet  this  gallant  tribe  was  young, 

Though  far  and  wide  its  fame  had  spread, 
For  stouter  bow  no  warriors  strung, 
In  chase  no  hunters  swifter  sped; 
Nor  fairer,  truer  women  smiled 
Than  wrought  to  bless  those  rovers  wild ; 
Well  pleased,  for  them  to  dress  the  fish, 
The  venison,  and  the  savory  dish 
Of  juicy  bulbs  and  tender  herbs, 
Or  fetch  the  drink  from  pebbly  curbs ; 
To  till  the  corn-ridge  in  the  glade, 
Or  pluck  and  husk  the  green  ears'  blade 
And  roast  it  in  the  glowing  ash, 
Or  mix  the  ambrosial  succotash ; 
To  raise  for  them  the  fragrant  weed, 
And  dress  and  sew  the  fur,  and  bead 
The  wampum  and  the  moccasin; 

Or  strike  and  pitch  the  shifting  tent, 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

xind  fill  the  magic  ring  within 

With  children's  witching  merriment. 

Fit  scion  of  such  race  was  he, 

Who,  with  his  faithful  maid,  shall  be 

The  burden  of  our  minstrelsy. 


15 


CANTO    I. 


THE  WOOING. 

HE  glorious  prairies  of  the  West ! 

Whoe'er  their  verdant  sod  hath  pressed 
Must  feel  how  weak,  how  vain  'twould  be, 
How  almost  like  to  mockery, 
To  venture,  in  a  minstrel's  lay, 
Their  matchless  beauty  to  portray. 
To-night  such  task  were  doubly  vain, 
For  Indian  summer  haunts  the  plain, 
(The  "golden  moons,"3  that  come  again, 
When  all  their  burning  rage  has  set, 
To  smoke  the  calumet  with  men, 

And  leave  the  earth  with  sad  regret.) 


18  THE   MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Far  rolls  the  plain  on  every  hand 

And  seems  a  sea,  with  emerald  waves, 
Waves  such  as  rise  far  out  from  land 

When  Zephyr  in  the  ocean  laves. 
The  river  sweeps  unruffled  by ; 
Within  the  stars  reflected  lie, 
And  like  a  jeweled  pavement  seem 
Beneath  the  swiftly  current  stream. 
Midway  the  gipsy  Moon  doth  float 
In  her  silver,  scalloped  boat, 
Nor  lifteth  oar  to  scull  or  steer, 
As  only  fain  to  sit  and  hear 
Those  tinkling  roundels,  faint  and  low, 
From  song-lipped  ripples  far  below. 

Around  yon  bend  that's  just  in  sight, 
On  river  bank  bestrewn  with  flowers, 

Dance  scores  of  Indian  braves  to-night, 
And  sport  away  the  moon-lit  hours: 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     19 

With  wild,  fantastic  trip  and  spring1 
E'er  circling  an  enchanted  ring 
Of  merry  maidens'  laughing  eyes, — 
AVhere  love  oft  sits,  in  poor  disguise, 
Such  times,  in  eager  gaze  and  glee 
Forgetting  half  its  coquetry. 

But  hist !    a  sound  the  Zephyr  bore ! 
It  seemed  the  dipping  of  an  oar. 
Again !    and  yet  nor  far  nor  nigh 
Doth  living  object  greet  the  eye. 
Perchance  it  was  the  plash  —  so  like  — 
Of  skipping  perch,  or  darting  pike, 
Or  basking  water-snake,  or  frog, 
Or  turtle  sliding  from  its  log, 
Or  loosened  turfs  that  seek  the  tide6 
From  crumbling,  flood-washed  river  side. 

Perchance !     And  yet,  there  seems  to  float, 

* 

A  something,  not  unlike  a  boat. 


20  THE  MYTH    OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Mayhap  it  is  a  lone  canoe, 

Which  yon  green  isle  has  hid  from  view. 

Nearer  it  comes,  and  nearer  still, 

Slow  drifting  at  the  current's  will. 

And  now  it  is  a  boat,  'tis  plain, 

Nor  drifts  unbidden  to  the  main, 

But,  like  a  thing  of  thought,  doth  bear 

Its  master  and  some  partner  fair. 

What  youthful  brave  and  trusting  maid 
Do  thus  the  merry  dance  evade, 
And  hither  bent,  in  secret  mood 
Crave  all  their  joy  of  solitude? 
That  manly  form  must  surely  be 
The  brave  young  warrior,  Men-no-wee, 
And  she,  the  fair  one  of  the  twain, 
Lel-lu-la,  belle  of  all  the  plain. 

Were  prudish  dames  ne'er  disobeyed,* 
Nor  clannish  codes,  no  Indian  maid 


A    LOVK   LEGEND    OF   DAKOTA.  21 

Were  ever  seen  thus  far  away 
From  camp,  or  guardian  watch  and  sway. 
But  Love  is  Love,  where'er  you  find  it, 
And  who,  the  wide  world  o'er,  can  bind  it  ? 
In  frozen  North,  in  East  or  West 

Or  burning  South,  'tis  all  the  same, 
Who  breathes  the  intoxicating  name 
No  longer  vaunts  the  Stoic  breast, 
Nor  bows  to  law  or  threatening  sires, 
But  moves  him  as  the  sprite  inspires : 
And  Honor  hath  no  safer  shield 
Than  true-love  to  his  maid  doth  yield. 

So  these  have  left  the  throng  behind 
And  stolen  down  the  stream  to  find 
Some  spot  beyond  all  list'ners'  ken, 
Where  they  may  interchange  again 
The  sacred  vows,  the  pledges  dear, 
They  could  not,  when  the  crowd  was  near. 


22  THE   MYTH  OF  STONE   IDOL. 

Now  Men-no-wee  has  dropt  the  oar 

And  guides  the  light  canoe  no  more, 

Nor  heeds  he  object  far  or  nigh, 

The  dew-gemmed  earth  or  star-gemmed  sky; 

His  arm  is  round  Lel-lu-la's  waist, 

His  fingers  through  her  soft  hair  laced, 

And  to  his  lip  and  to  his  eye 

Her  eye,  her  lip  now  make  reply. 

Then  wherefore  should  he  care  for  aught 

Save  her.  the  soul  of  every  thought, 

Save  her,  whose  love-reflected  face, 

On  darkest  war-path,  farthest  chase, 

Forever  present  to  his  heart, 

Ne'er  leaves  him,  though  herself  depart  — 

This  actual  self,  this  throbbing  real, 

Dear  flesh  and  blood  of  his  ideal, 

That  now  leans  fondly  on  his  arm, 

A  living,  life-absorbing  charm. 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     23 

Nay,  let  no  common   thought  transgress 
The  borders  of  such  happiness. 
Where  all  seems  lost  to  outward  sense 
There  Love's  true  bound'ries  just  commence, 
And  he  who  thither  wins  his  way 
May  bask  in  her  ecstatic  ray. 
Such  is  the  spiritual  bound 
Which    these    fond    hearts    this    hour    have 

found ; 

And  now,  abstract  from  all  beside, 
Their  thoughts  like  streams  commingling  glide, 
Which  naught  about  them  can  divide. 
Beneath  their  boat  the  waters  play 
And  sing  a  fairy  roundelay ; 
Above  their  heads  the  spangled  sky 
Rears  its  jeweled  arches  high ; 
The  waving  prairies  far  and  nigh 
'Neath  a  flood  of  glory  lie ; 


24  THE  MYTH   OF   STONE  IDOL. 

And  on  the  river  margin,  near, 
Stands  a  spright  and  antlered  deer, 
Like  a  sentinel  of  love 
Watching  for  their  boat  above. 
But  yet  the  maid  and  Men-no-wee 
None  of  all  these  beauties  see. 

Thus,  captive  to  a  common  spell, 
Beloving,  and  beloved  as  well, 
Each  wholly  slaved  and  wholly  bound 
Is  happier  than  a  monarch  crowned, 
Nor  would  exchange  this  moment's  bliss 
For  thrice  ten  thousand  worlds  like  this. 
Young  Men-no-wee  is  bending  now 
Above  Lel-lu-la's  orbed  brow ; 
His  lingers  dally  with  the  meshes 
Of  the  maiden's  raven  tresses; 
He  gazes  in  her  ebon  eyes, 
In  which  such  thrall  of  beauty  lies; 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     25 

He  breathes  her  breath,  like  odored  gales 

Perfumed  in  full  blown  flower-vales ; 

Then  tints  her  cheek  and  lips  with  kisses, 
And,  raptured  by  the  thrilling  vein 
That  ever  prompts  the  amorous  strain, 

And  Thought  for  Joy's  wild  steed  dismisses, 

Gives  Passion  free,  abandoned  rein 

To  gallop  o'er  Love's  wordy  plain. 

MEN-NO-WEE. 

Maid  of  the  ardent,  love-lit  eye, 
Kindling  my  soul  with  rapture  high, 
Dark-eyed  child  of  the  prairies  free, 
How  shall  I  utter  my  love  for  thee? 
All  of  the  voices  that  speak  in  air, — 
Tones  that  the  lips  of  the  zephyrs  bear, 
Music  of  birds  in  their  summer  glee, 
Chirping  of  cricket  and  humming  of  bee, 


26  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Babblings  of  rills  as  they  skip  on  their  way, 
Tunes  that  the  fountains  and  waterfalls  play, 
Hymns  of  the  winds  in  their  wild  rejoice, 
Anthems  which  swell  in  the  thunder's  voice, 
Pipings  of  minstrels  that  woo  the  fair, — 
All  of  them,  breathed  in  one  harmony  rare, 
Such,  that  when  "  Spirit  Land  "  caught  the  strain 
Souls  of  the  blest  would  haste  earthward  again, 
All  of  them  could  not  my  love  declare. 

Lel-lu-la  lists  with  joy  the  while, 
Delight  imprinted  in  her  smile, 
Till,  as  the  final  word  is  said, 
Her  vermeiled  cheek  takes  deeper  red, 
And,  yielding  to  the  witchery 
Of  maiden's  sex-born  coquetry, 
Wherewith  she  shrewdly  makes  her  lover 
His  passion's  deepest  depths  discover, 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF   DAKOTA.  27 

Or  to  her  thirst}7  heart  repeat 

The  draught  of  love  each  time  more  sweet. 

She  turns  away,  and  coyly  tries 

To  veil  her  love  in  peevish  guise; 

A  feigned  reproof  her  lips  divides, 

And  thus  in  pettish  tone  she  chides : 

LEL-LU-LA. 

Full  oft  thou  hast  sung  me  this  song,  Men-no-wee, 
O  see'st  thou  not  thou  art  wearying  me? 
Must  maidens  be  list'ning  forever  to  love  ? 
Dost  thou  think  we  are  all  as  the  languishing  dove, 
That  bird  that  is  cooing  its  love-notes  forever, 
And  alters  the  theme  of  its  minstrelsy  never? 
Hast  thou  failed  to  observe  how  nature  doth  change 
And  vary  the  beauties  amid  which  we  range? 
The  sky  wears  not  always  the  same  azure  hue, 
The  earth  does  not  always  lie  glist'ning  in  dew, 


28  THE  MYTH   Off  STONE  IDOL. 

The  colors  of  sunset  are  never  the  same 
For  an  eve  or  an  instant  —  so  never  grow  tame ; 
The  bud  of  the  rose  keeps  not  always  unblown, 
But  opes,  that  its  lovelier  tints  may  be  shown  ; 
Then  wherefore  do  lovers  ne'er  vary  their  strain, 
But  sing  us  the  same  song  again  and  again  ? 

MEN-NO-WEE. 

Maiden  with  dallying  tresses  dight, 
Tresses  as  dark  as  the  plumes  of  night, 

Child  of  the  prairies,  mischanced  in  birth, 

Meant  but  for  "  Spirit  Land,"  strayed  to  the  earth, 
So  hath  thy  beauty  enslaved  my  heart, 
Never  would  I  from  thy  presence  depart 

All  of  the  treasures  that  'neath  us  lie, 

All  of  the  stars  that  adorn  the  sky, 
All  of  the  riches  on  land  and  sea 
Could  not  entice  me  to  stray  from  thee. 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     29 
LEL-LU-LA. 

O  fie,  Men-no-wee,  wilt  them  never  give  o'er? 
'Tis  the  very  same  song  them  wast  singing  before, 
And  why  wcmlcTst  thou  weary  my  life  with  this  tale 
Which  thou  seemest  to  think  cannot  ever  grow  stale  ? 
O  change  thy  theme  now,  and  sing  of  the  flowers ; 
The  fawns  in  the  valley ;  the  birds  in  their  bowers ; 
Of  yon  bright  eyes  of  heaven  which  look  on  us  now ; 
Of  this  balm-laden  breeze  that  is  kissing  my  brow. 
Can'st  thou  solve  me  the  myst'ry,  whence,  wherefore 

they  blow 
Or  sparkle  or  flourish  ?    'Twere  pleasant  to  know. 

MEN-NO-WEE. 

Joy  of  my  soul  and  my  being's  light! 

Lu-la,  fair  as  the  sunbeam  bright, 
Matchless  in  feature  and  symmetry, 
How  shall  I  sing  of  aught  else  than  thee? 


30  THK   MYTH   OF  STONE   IDOL. 

Beauty  on  earth  and  beauty  in  sky, 
Serve  but  to  image  thy  charms  to  my  eye, 
Image  them  fadingly,  even  as  now 
"Waters  beneath  us  do  mirror  thy  brow. 
Flowers,  by  tintings  and  rich  perfumes, 
Birds,  by  their  carols  and  brilliant  plumes, 
Fawns,  by  their  grace  in  each  motion  and  limb, 
Stars,  by  their  lustre,  no  age  can  dim, 

Winds,  by  their  breathings  of  fragrance  and  song, 
All  that  is  lovely,  by  sympathy  strong, 
Calls  to  my  mind  some  perfection  of  thine, 
Prompts  me  to  worship,  with  thee  for  my  shrine. 

LEL-LU-LA. 

O  stay,  Men-no-wee,  thou  can'st  tell  me  no  more! 
Thou'st  uttered  thy  soul,  and  my  heart  runneth  o'er ; 
Then  rest,  and  as  I  have  been  list'ning  to  thee, 
So  now  be  thou  patient,  and  hearken  to  me. 


A    LOVE    LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA.  31 

SONG. 

The  warrior  has  his  bow  and  shield, 

His  battle-axe  and  spear, 
But  woman's  all  in  all  is  love, 

Her  only  strength  and  cheer. 

The  hunter  has  his  bounding  steed, 

His  quiver,  dart  and  knife, 
But  woman's  all  in  all  is  love, 

The  chase  of  all  her  life. 

Her  lord,  for  pleasure  or  for  fame, 

O'er  all  the  earth  may  roam, 
But  woman's  all  in  all  is  love, 

And  where  that  is,  is  home. 

Thou'rt  brave  as  valor's  self,  my  love, 
And  should'st  not  thou  be  true? 


32  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Truth,  valor,  honor  are  but  one, 
So  thou  and  falsehood  two. 

Thou  bring'st  me  love,  with  pledge  of  truth, 

To  doubt  thee  were  to  die; 
Henceforth  thou  art  my  all  in  all, 

And  where  thou  art,  am  I. 

The  song  is  done,  the  strain  is  o'er, 
The  music  dies  along  the  shore; 
The  last  faint  echoes  faintly  roll, 
Like  fading  memories  o'er  the  soul. 
Locked  in  one  long  and  fond  caress 
Of  mutual  love  and  tenderness, 
With  feelings  wrapt,  as  in  a  trance, 
And  far  too  full  for  utterance, 
The  lovers  sit,  nor  heed  how  fly 
The  lightning  pinioned  moments  by, 


A    LOVE  LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

Till  on  the  green  horizon's  brim 
The  sinking  moon  grows  quickly  dim 
And  warns  them  by  its  waning  light 
How  very  far  hath  sped  the  night. 
Now  thinking  of  the  homeward  course 
They  turn  to  stem  the  current's  force. 
Good  Men-no-wee,  with  native  sleight, 
Directs  and  speeds  the  boat  aright, 
While  fair  Lel-lu-la  cheers  the  time 
With  sonnets  quaint  of  Indian  rhyme. 
Thus,  slowly,  homeward  tend  the  twain, 
And  Solitude  resumes  her  reign. 


33 


CANTO   II. 


THE  INTERDICTION. 

LGAIN  'tis  night,  and,  like  the  last, 

A  night  in  beauty  unsurpassed ; 
A  night  that  makes  us  feel  the  power 
Of  placid  moonlight's  tranquil  hour, 
That  mystic  power,  which  thrills  the  breast, 
While  yet  we  know  not  why  we're  blest. 

We  wander,  as  we  did  before, 
Along  the  wild  Missouri's  shore ; 
The  same  enrapturing  beauties  spread 
Around,  beneath  and  overhead : 
While,  to  enrich  the  lovely  view, 
A  mimic  grove,  of  greenest  hue, 


36  THE   MYTH    OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Stands  waving  'gainst  the  impending  skies, 

And  in  its  quiet  border  lies 

An  Indian  village,  still  and  fair 

As  if  'twere  only  painted  there. 

There  dwells  Shee-wau  amid  his  braves 

Like  some  tall  elm,  that  towering  waves 

Its  regal  branches  over  all 

The  forest  lords  which  'neath  it  fall. 

Yon  stately  wigwam's  birchen  dome 

Makes  all  the  chieftain's  court  and  home. 

There  lies  he  now,  at  hour  for  rest, 

Expecting  midnight's  wonted  guest. 

Never  before  in  many  a  year 

Has  sleep  refused  to  meet  him  here ; 

Not  e'en  when  war  its  horrors  wrought, 

o 

And  prowling  foes  his  slumbers  sought; 
When  dread  of  midnight  massacre 
Filled  every  weaker  heart  with  fear, 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     3T 

Nor  when  the  tempest's  crashing  thunder 
Seemed  bursting  heaven  and  earth  asunder. 
Oft  has  it  been  his  lot  to  lie 
With  nothing  o'er  him  but  the  sky ; 
Ofttimes  the  snow  has  been  his  bed, 
With  moss-grown  log  to  rest  his  head, 
Yet  thus  exposed  he  soundly  slept 
While  beasts  of  prey  about  him  crept,— 
Un wakened  by  the  bear's  hoarse  growl, 
Unstartled  by  the  wolf's  fierce  howl. 

To-night  all  things  seem  wooing  rest ; 
The  softest  furs  his  limbs  invest, 
An  otter  robe  is  o'er  him  spread, 
A  fawn-skin  pillow  props  his  head, 
The  open  door  admits  the  light 
And  fragrant  breezes  of  the  night 
To  dally  with  his  hoary  hairs 
And  lull  liim  with  ^Eolian  airs ; 


38  THE   MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Yet  faithful  sleep  forsakes  him  now, 
And  leaves  unsmoothed  his  wrinkled  brow. 
Why  does  the  chieftain  restless  lie? 
Why  comes  not  slumber  to  his  eye? 
What  present  care  affects  him  more 
Than  all  life's  gathered  ills  before? 

Ah!   sorely  is  his  soul  oppressed, 
For  she,  of  all  life's  gifts  the  best, 
Lies  anguished  now  in  heart  and  brain 
J3y  poison  Fate  hath  made  her  drain 
From  lips  that  fain  would  yield  their  breath, 

Could  that  but  meet  the  stern  demand 

Of  law's  inflexible  command, 
Which  now  seems  working  double  death. 

Lel-lu-la  is  his  only  child ; 
Of  seven  that  once  about  him  smiled 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     39 

The  one  lone  joy  that  Fate  has  left: 
For  three,  e'en  from  his  side,  were  cleft 
By  battle's  bloody  axe,  and  three, — 

O  Hate,  and  Vengeance,  never!    never! 

Forget  that  deed, — 'tis  damned  forever! — 
Were  massacred  most  fiendishly! 
Mother  and  babes  and  wife  asleep 
At  night, —  at  morn  a  bloody  heap! 

Then  surely  'tis  not  strange  that  she, 
The  sole  sprout  of  that  parent  tree, 
Should  be  his  being's  prop  and  pride, 
Nor  e'er  know  wish  that  he  denied 
Till  now: — yes,  now!     'Tis  Fate's  decree 

That  all  must  taste  the  bitter  tree 

Of  trial  and  adversity, 
And  now,  poor  child,  it  fruits  for  thee. 


40  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

*To-night,  ere  Twilight  left  the  West 
And  Day  had  drawn  his  tent,  to  rest, 
He  strode  the  lodge  with  troubled  air, 
Nor  touched  the  evening's  smoking  fare, 
Nor  spoke,  but  motioned  from  his  sight 
The  wondering  menials,7  mute  with  fright, 
Then  laid  away  his  pipe,  untried, 
And  called  the  maiden  to  his  side. 

Nor  waited  she,  but  instant  flew 
To  chase  those  fright'ning  clouds  apace, 

Around  his  neck  her  warm  arms  threw 
And  laid  her  cheek  against  his  face. 

To  weep  for  torture's  cruel  pang, 
Or  death,  or  sting  of  hunger's  fang, 
Or  aught  that  mortal  ill  can  do, 
Would  ne'er  become  a  warrior  true; 
Yet  doubt  not  Love  can  sometimes  thaw 
The  veriest  stone  of  flesh,  and  draw 


A    LOVE  LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

The  sternest  Indian's  soul  to  bring 
A  tribute  tear,  Death  could  not  wring. 

So  fared  the  iron  chief,  Shee-wan, 
That  time  he  felt  those  dear  arms  draw 
Their  filial  clasp  about  his  neck, 
Starting  a  tear  he  could  not  check ; 
Since  for  such  love  his  harsh  return 
Must  be  a  mandate  which  should  burn 
Upon  her  brain  like  torturing  fire ; 
And  what  to  this,  for  doting  sire, 
Were  foe's  hot  dart  or  flaming  pyre  ? 
This  but  his  crackling  flesh  could  scorch, 
That  to  his  soul  applies  the  torch. 

That  single  tear  appalled  her  more 
Than  all  the  frowns  he  ever  wore, 
And,  trembling  with  an  unknown  fear, 
Nearer  she  pressed,  and  still  more  near, 


42  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

As  sparrow  'neatli  its  parent's  wing, 
Making  his  breast  her  covering. 

But  soon,  the  traitor  tear  dismissed. 
The  terror  from  her  brow  was  kissed 
And  thus  he  spoke: 

"Lel-lu-la,  child, 

Fear  not  this  passion,  strangely  wild  — 
An  instant  stronger  than  my  strength  — 
"Tis  conquered  now,  and  thou  at  length 
Shalt  learn  its  cause, —  how  love  for  thee 
And  wish  to  spare  thee  misery 
Have  even  wrung  a  tear  from  me. 
Thou  wilt  not  doubt  my  fondness  then ; 
Nay !   though  I  say  that  ne'er  again 
Those  eyes  must  look  on  Men-no-wee 
As  else  than  foe  to  thee  and  me. 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     43 

I  deemed  him  once  a  warrior  brave, 
And  worthy  of  the  love  we  gave, 
A  lover  of  his  tribe  and  chief, 
Who  ne'er  would  give  a  foe  relief 
Or  freely  spare  the  lives  of  those 
For  whom  our  deadliest  hatred  glows. 

"  Thou  know'st  what  time  the  Mandans  came, 
Enwrapt  our  homes8  in  midnight  flame 
And  massacred  thy  sleeping  dame? 
What  time  they  scalped  thy  brothers  twain? 
And  thy  fair  sister-babe  was  slain  ? 
That  time  wre  called  our  scattered  bands 
Around  those  lodges'  smouldering  brands, 
Around  those  loved  ones'  whitened  bones, 
And  swore,  by  all  thy  nation  owns 
Of  Powers  in  clouds  and  earth  and  hell, 
That,  till  the  last  doomed  Mandan  fell, 


THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

His  blood  through  palms  of  vengeance  wrung, 
Our  bows  should  never  go  unstrung, 
Our  knives  be  sheathed,  or  hatchets  laid 
Or  buried  'neath  the  Peace  tree's  shade : 
We  swore  nor  old  nor  young  to  spare, 
Mother,  nor  babe,  nor  maiden  fair, 
But  whelm  the  whole  accursed  brood 
In  one  unpitying  doom  of  blood. 

"  My  child !   my  child  !    it  must  be  so ! 
The  oath  must  live !     Who  breaks  it, — woe ! 
And  yet,  to-day,  this  Men- no-wee 
Has  spurned  its  fearful  sanctity: 
For  straggling  in  the  distant  chase, 
He  chanced,  in  wild,  secluded  place, 
Upon  a  Mandan,  almost  dead 
From  loss  of  blood,  (right  nobly  shed 
'Tis  true !    for  near  him,  in  his  lair, 
Lay  slain  a  monstrous  grizzly-bear.) 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     45 

"  Young  Men-no-wee  should  then  have  done 
The  work  of  death  so  well  begun ; 
But  nay  !    he  gave  him  drink,  then  bound 
And  gently  stanched  each  bleeding  wound, 
And  when  he  saw  his  foe  revive    • 
Turned  girl,  and  bade  him  go  alive! 
For  this,  by  all  our  ancient  law, 
And  by  the  honor  of  Shee-wan, 
He  stands  condemned  his  spear  to  yield,' 
Arid  toil  his  lifetime  in  the  field. 
Thus  sore  disgraced  he  ne'er  can  be 
A  lord   to  thee,  a  son  to  me. 
So  now  thou  must  his  love  forego, 
And  he  at  morn  his  doom  shall  know." 

Lel-lu-la  heard ;    she  raised  no  cry, 
She  did  not  weep  nor  make  reply  ; 
But  stood  as  one  of  life  bereft, 


46  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

The  death-pangs  in  her  features  left, — 
A  type  of  speechless  agony, 
The  embodiment  of  misery. 

O,  strong  and  terrible  is  grief 
When  tears  come  not  to  give  relief! 
The  stream  that  trickles  through  the  mountain 
Unpent,  flows  harmless  from  its  fountain, 
But  bound,  it  bursts  the  solid  rock, 
And  rends  the  mount  with  dreadful  shock: 
So  griefs  that  weep  slight  wound  impart, 
But  tears  confined  will  burst  the  heart. 

The  .chieftain  did  not  see  or  hear 
That  woe  too  deep  for  word  or  tear; 
Too  dimly  there  the  moonbeams  shone 
To  make  those  lines  of  sorrow  known, 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     47 

And  thence  faint  hope  his  fancy  drew 
That  Time  would  soon  Love's  spell  undo, 
And  heal  that  instant's  cruel  wound. 
Yet  feared  he  silence  so  profound, 
And  when  anon  a  smothered  moan 
Escaped  her  heart,  it  seemed  his  own 
Were  melting  into  molten  lead, 
And  half  he  wished  his  words  unsaid ! 
Yet  felt  to  yield  were  sore  disgrace, 
So,  still  resolved,  with  fond  embrace 
He  strove  to  make  her  feel  some  part 
Of  parent  love  that  wrung  his  heart : 
Then  blessed  her  for  obedience  past 
And  prayed  her,  while  his  life  should  last, 
Ne'er  give  her  sire  cause  for  shame ; 
But,  like  her  fearless,  high-born  dame, 
Who  never  blanched  for  fear,  or  fled 
From  toil  or  pain,  when  Duty  led, 


4:8  THE   MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Be  stanch  to  brave  the  sternest  doom. 

"  Go,  child  ! "  he  cried,  "  dismiss  this  gloom  ! 

Be  in  the  bow  of  Destiny 

A  flinted  arrow !   armed  to  go 
At  every  mark  that's  set  for  thee; 

Nor  bend  at  pain,  nor  glance  from  woe." 

On  mats  of  flags  and  osier  made 
The  richest  Indian  furs  are  laid, 
Adorned  with  painted  birds  and  flowers, 
With  pictured  fruits  and  vines  and  bowers ;'" 
Embroidered  with  the  choicest  shells, 
And  scented  with  the  sweetest  smells 
From  camomile  and  rose  fresh  blown, 
Which  every  morn  are  o'er  them  strewn. 

There  lies  Lel-lu-la  now,  unblest 
By  all  these  blandishments  of  rest, 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

A  writhing  sufferer, —  a  prey 
To  thoughts  that  gnaw  her  heart  away. 
Her  breast  is  torn  with  inward  pain  ; 
A  seething  fever  scalds  her  brain; 
She  sinks  beneath  her  crushing  fate, 
By  Love  and  Hope  left  desolate. 

List,  and  catch  the  minstrelsy! 
The  air  is  stirred  with  melody. 

SONG. 

Awake,  maiden,  wake ! 

Sleep's  rosy  tendrils  break ! 
O,  leave  thy  beaver  couch  awhile 
And  haste  to  bless  me  with  thy  smile. 

Awake,  maiden,  wake ! 
The  air  is  balmy  sweet  to-night, 
The  earth  with  glist'ning  dew  is  bright, 


50  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE   IDOL. 

And  like  the  love-light  in  thine  eye 
Shines  the  star-light  in  the  sky. 

Then  wake,  maiden,  wake ! 

Let  love  thy  slumbers  break ! 
O,  bid  night's  wizard  shadows  flee 
And  leave  the  world  to  thee  and  me! 

Awake,  maiden,  wake ! 

Awake,  maiden,  wake! 

Thy  shell-decked11  couch  forsake ! 
O,  come  where  loving  hearts  may  blend 
In  mutual  joys  that  ne'er  should  end. 

Awake,  maiden,  wake! 
My  boat  is  by  the  river  shore, 
And  waits  thee  now,  as  oft  before, 
While  Love,  impatient,  bids  thee  haste, 
Nor  let  her  priceless  moments  waste. 

Then  wake,  maiden,  wake! 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

Come,  let  us  pleasure  take ! 
And  hours  that  brought  us  former  bliss 
Shall  all  seem  dull  or  blank  to  this, 

So  wake,  maiden,  wake ! 

Along  the  encampment's  grassy  lanes 
So  sing  the  amorous  youths,  in  strains12 
That  stir  full  many  a  maiden's  breast 
"With  dreamings  sweeter  far  than  rest. 

Erst,  when  the  voice  of  Men-no-wee 
Joined  in  the  moon-lit  minstrelsy, 
Lel-lu-la  drank  the  love-thrilled  air 
Like  wine  the  matrons  blest  prepare13 
From  nectared  clusters  only  found 
Amid   the  Happy  Hunting  Ground, 
Though  suffered  sometimes  thence  to  flow 
And  mingle  with  the  air  below. 


52  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

But  now,  alas  for  Men-no-wee ! 

He  knows  too  well  his  misery 

To  join  that  once  delightful  strain, 

Now  turned  to  mocking,  torturing  pain. 

They've  told  him  that  his  generous  deed 
Was  watched  by  one  of'  Envy's  breed,- 
A  rival  for  his  love  and  fame, — 
Whose  spleen  has  slimed  his  honored  name 
And  marred  it  with  a  strange  disgrace 
That  life  nor  death  can  e'er  efface. 

His  chiefs  have  asked  him  of  his  act, 
Himself  hath  witnessed  to  its  fact, — 
For  Honor,  though  it  dares  to  die. 
Dares  not  for  more  than  life,  to  lie. 
The  deed  confessed, —  himself  hath  seen 
Lips  knit  o'er  teeth  that  gnashed  between, 
And  brows  that  frowned  with  direst  bode, 
As  stern  old  wrar-chiefs  past  him  strode. 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF   DAKOTA. 

So  now,  prepared,  he  waits  his  doom  ; 
Nor  dreads  swift  entrance  to  the  tomb, 
But  only  fears  some  sterner  fate. 

Yet  wherefore  for  his  sentence  wait  ? 
His  neighing  charger  paws  the  plain, 
Well  trained  at  call  to  bite  the  rein ; 
The  prairies  free  before  him  lie ; 
Then  why  not  mount  his  barb  and  fly  \ 
"Fly!  Fhj!^    A  vaunt!    That  ne'er  can  be! 
Its  foeman  from  his  tribe  may  flee, 
But  never !   surely  never,  he ! 


CANTO   III. 


THE  APOTHEOSIS. 

|IGTIT'S  stars  had  faded  from  the  view 

f; 

£  And  morn,  in  buskins  gemmed  with  dew, 

Had  wide,  with  rosy  fingers,  drawn 
The  gold-hemmed  tent-folds  of  the  dawn. 

Shee-wau  had  summoned  Men-no-wee 
To  learn  his  bitter  destiny. 
He  came ;  he  heard :   what  need  we  more  ? 
As  warriors  bear,  so  he  then  bore, 
And  let  the  throes  which  wrung  his  breast, 
As  then,  so  now,  go  unexpressed. 


56  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

The  hours  drag  on  at  leaden  pace 
While  we,  with  saddened  musings,  trace 
A  stream  which  to  Missouri  brings 
The  tribute  of  a  hundred  springs. 
Along  its  banks  our  way  has  led 
To  where  three  princely  elm-trees  wed 
Their  locking  branches  overhead, 
And  from  their  green  tiaras  throw 
Cool  shade  on  violet  beds  below. 

This  is  a  spot  by  memory 
Made  holy  ground  to  Men-no-wee. 
'Twas  here  that  first,  in  passioned  tone, 
He  made  his  fervid  fondness  known. 
'Twas  here,  Lel-lu-la  by  his  side, 
He  won  her  pledge  to  be  his  bride; 
Where  many  a  blessed  moon  since  then 
Has  heard  her  grant  that  pledge  again. 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA.  57 

But  now  those  try  sting-days  are  fled, 
The  hope  that  thrilled  him  then  is  dead ; 
Yet,  though  his  thoughts  through  midnight  grope, 
Though  fell  despair  has  buried  hope, 
Though  crushed  in  all  save  thrice-nerved  pain, 
He  seeks  the  cherished  spot  again. 
But  ah !    what  lava-torrents  roll, 
In  burning  currents,  through  his  soul, 
As  hallowed  objects  meet  his  eyes, 
And  thoughts  of  other  days  arise ! 
With  iron  grip  he  clasps  his  brain 
As  though  he  feared  'twould  rend  in  twain, 
And  cries,  "  O,  will  they  come  no  more ! 
Those  days  when  joy's  full  banks  ran  o'er, 
And  bliss  flowed  constant  in  the  breast, 
When  love  made  every  moment  blest? 
Never  can  they  return !    no,  never ! 
My  cheerless  sentence  holds  forever! 


58  THE   MYTH   OF   STONE   IDOL. 

Of  love  bereft,  an  abject  slave, 

I've  rianght  to  pray  for  but  the  grave. 

Then  come,  my  friendly  blade,  set  free 

This  tortured  slave  of  misery. 

Yet  nay !     A  voice  within  me  cries : 

'None  but  the  veriest  coward  flies 

To  self-destruction !    who  denies 

lie  fears  to  suffer — therefore  dies!' 

Nay !    I  can  breast  the  fiercest  fate, 

But  she,  my  idol  desolate, 

Must  not  such  suffering  crush  her  heart? 

Or  can  she"-  — the  unworthy  part 

Is  spared,  for  ere  it  is  expressed 

Lel-lu-la  falls  upon  his  breast. 

O  Love  and  Hopeless  Agony! 
Dumb  in  your  deep  intensity, 
Why  are  ye  destined  thus  to  meet 
And  claim  on  earth  the  self-same  seat! 


A    LOVE   LEGEND    OF  DAKOTA. 

'Twere  better  Love  should  never  be 
Than  thus  blow  coals  for  Agony. 

Long  time  they  sat  in  silence  there, 
Struck  mute  with  suffering  and  despair. 
At  last  her  soul's  choked  fountains  start, 
And  tears  relieve  Lel-lu-la's  heart. 
Then  speech  returns,  and  thus  she  pleads 

"  Alas !   alas,  my  Men-no-wee  ! 
Art  thou  so  changed  by  misery 
That  thou  can'st  not  one  word  bestow 
To  cherish  her  who  loves  thee  so? 
O,  mention  but  my  name  once  more  — 
'Twill  half  my  murdered  peace  restore. 
'Twere  sweet  to  know  that  at  this  hour 
Love  still  retains  her  wonted  power. 


60  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

And  if  this  boon  thou  should'st  deny 
My  swollen  heart  must  break  and  die." 

Sadly  the  warrior  lifts  his  eyes: 
" Great  Spirit !   grant,  grant  now"  he  sighs, 
"  The  boon  of  death  she  seems  to  fear, 
Since  love  no  more  can  bless  us  here. 
'Twere  better  both  should  perish  so 
Than  thus  to  live,  divorced  by  woe : 
'Twere  better  sojourn  with  the  dead 
Than  thus  survive  when  hope  has  fled." 

"  O  pause !    Thou  lov'st  me  still,  I  feel ! " 
Lel-lu-la  cries,  "then  pray  for  weal, 
But  crave  not  death,  for  though  'twould  be 
Most  welcome,  were  I  torn  from  thee, 
Yet  while  my  arms  thy  neck  entwine, 
And  thy  warm  cheek  is  pressed  to  mine, 


ff 

A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     61 

I  still  will  hope,  despite  my  fears, 

That  Fate  reserves  us  brighter  years. 

Though  now  we  grope  in  darkest  night, 

Ungnided  by  one  ray  of  light, 

Yet  somewhere  in  this  clouded  air 

Dwells  One  who  hears  the  sufferer's  prayer. 

Him  let  us  earnestly  implore 

To  grant  us  former  bliss  once  more ; 

Or,  if  such  boon  must  be  denied, 

If  life  and  love  henceforth  divide, 

Then  pray  that  death,  before  we  sever, 

Crush  both  our  life  arid  woe  together.'' 

'Tis  spoken,  and  the  twain  have  knelt 
To  Him,  whose  majesty  is  felt 
And  mystic  sovereignty  adored 
Alike  by  sage  and  savage  horde. 
To  Him,  in  strains  of  suppliancy, 
Ascends  the  prayer  of  Men-no-wee : 


62  THE  MYTH   OF  STONE  IDOL. 

"Almighty  Te-wa-rooh-teh,14  Spirit  True! 
To  whom  all  life  and  power  and  praise  are  due, 
Thine  is  the  attribute,  by  all  confessed, 
To  aid  the  needy,  succor  the  distressed : 
To  Thee  we  come,  in  grief's  extremity, 
And  on  Thy  footstool  bow  the  suppliant  knee. 
O,  from  the  bowers  of  '  Spirit  Land '  above, 
Kegard  Thy  children  with  a  Father's  love. 
Lo,  how  the  arrows  of  a  cruel  fate 
Hang  festering  in  the  hearts  so  blest  of  late. 
Avert  the  judgments  of  a  law  unjust, 
Which  treads  Thy  milder  instincts  in  the  dust. 
As 'Thou  didst  prompt  this  heart  to  aid  a  foe, 
Let  not  Thy  prompting  be  our  overthrow ! 
Bind  up  the  wounds  a  cruel  law  has  made  ! 
Revive  the  hopes  that  in  the  dust  are  laid ! 
Unite  the  tender  chords  of  joy  once  more, 
And  all  their  soul-filled  harmony  restore! 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     63 

Erase  remembered  pangs  of  agony, 
Give  back  the  cup  of  Love's  full  ecstasy ! 
Or  if  request  so  great  must  be  denied, 
Then  aught  bestow,  so  it  do  not  divide 
These  hearts  so  closely,  fondly,  firmly  bound, 
And  with  the  living  coils  of  being  wound. 
O,  let  not  these  be  rudely  cleft ; 
Let  both  be  first  of  life  bereft. 
Yea !    if  our  dust  may  mingle  here, 
Grow  in  the  same  flowers  from  year  to  year, 
In  the  same  bridal-wreaths  be  bound, 
While,  in  the  Happy  Hunting  Ground, 
Ourselves,  united  ne'er  to  sever, 
Shall  drink  the  same  sweet  founts  forever, 
And  never  pangs  of  suffering  know, 
Nor  taste  the  poisoned  dregs  of  woe, 
Hence,  Life!   and  hail,  Felicity! 
O,  thither  speed  us  instantly ! 


64  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Yea!   Te-wa-rook-teh,  Spirit  True! 
Let  earth's  false  visions  fade  from  view, 
Strike  off  our  clogs  of  suffering  clay 
And  let  these  captive  selves  away." 


Where  knelt  those  lovers  years  ago 
Two  massive  rocks  the  Indians  show ; 
On  which  the  fairest  flowers  spring 
And  vines  the  most  luxurious  cling, 
Which  bind  the  -two  as  close  together 
As  if  'twere  meant  they  ne'er  should  sever. 
These— says  the  Indian  Legendry  — 
Are  Lu-la  and  her  Men-no-wee. 

Upon  the  hero's  rocky  crest 
The  sunshine  seems  a  smile's  behest. 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     65 

His  faithful  dog  beside  him  stands. 

The  grapes,  which  were  their  only  food 
When  wand'ring,  tentless,  in  the  wood, 

In  clusters  fill  Lel-lu-la's  hands; 

And  from  her  sun-lit  forehead  brown 

Benignity  itself  looks  down. 

Often  doth  sculptor  Nature  form, 
With  chiseling  frost  and  hammering  storm, 
Rocks  into  rugged  shapes  of  men  ;15 
Then,  as  the  ancient  prophets  tell, 
Indue  them  with  mysterious  spell, 
To  guard  some  sacred  mount  or  glen. 
And  like  to  such  are  these,  'tis  true, 
But  think  not  thus  these  wonders  grew. 

Nay  !    Te-wa-rooh  teh,  Nature's  Sire, 
In  starry  wigwam  of  the  sky, 


66  THE   MYTH    OF  STONE   IDOL. 

Heard  his  sad  children's  plaintive  cry, 
And  granted  all  their  souls'  desire. 

Long  time  they  waited,  ere  their  prayer 
Brought  answer  through  the  silent  air, 
Till,  weary,  worn  and  wasted  grown, 
Their  flesh  had  shrunk  to  skin  and  bone, 
Then  slowly  changed  to  pulseless  stone.1' 
The  tired  feet  first  ceased  to  move, 
Each  joint  grown  solid  to  its  groove ; 
Thence  to  the  knees  the  strange  spell  spread ; 
Thence  to  the  thighs,  the  heart,  the  head ; 
Then,  like  a  moon-lit  mist  across  the  plain, 
Went  forth  their  spirits  from  these  haunts  of  pain. 

Supremely  blest,  they  roam  the  fields 

Where  Peace  and  Love  and  Plenty  greet 
The  brave  and  true,  and  good  men  meet 

The  rich  rewards  that  Virtue  yields. 


A  LOVE  LEGEND  OF  DAKOTA.     67 

The  happy  Dead !    Do  they  forget 
Their  kindred  dear,  who  linger  yet 
Amidst  the  mingled  love  and  strife, 
The  jo}'S  and  ills  of  mortal  life? 
Do  they  forget,  'midst  joys  above, 
The  springs  where  first  they  drank  of  love ; 
And,  in  foryetfulness,  forsake 
The  land  where  human  heartstrings  break  ? 
Nay !  they  who  lone  can  ne'er  forget : 
Who  loved  us  first,  they  love  us  yet ! 

Forevermore  in  sympathy 

With  never-changing  constancy, 

Lel-ln-la  and  her  Men-no-wee, 

Endowed  with  attributes  divine 
And  bosomed  in  this  mural  shrine, 

Now  serve  in  Love's  sweet  ministry, — 

Mute  prophets  of  fidelity. 


68  THE  MYTH  OF  STONE  IDOL. 

Hither,  with  every  blooming  year, 
They  come,  fond  lovers'  vows  to  hear; 
And  keep  them  to  their  pledges  true, 
Life's  brief  or  lengthened  journey  through. 


So  therefore  come  they  here  for  flowers 
To  deck  their  bridal  robes  and  bowers; 
And  pluck  the  buds  as  potent  charms 
To  woo  true-lovers  to  their  arms; 
Or,  pledging  love's  integrity, 
Thereby  take  oath  of  constancy. 


NOTES. 


NOTE  I,  PAGE  13. 
"Have  swept  this  valiant  baud  away." 

The  legend  of  Stone  Idol  is  treated  as  if  of  Riccaree  origin. 
It  is  more  likely  that  it  dates  from  a  much  earlier  period  than 
the  migration  of  the  Riccarees  from  the  neighborhood  of  their 
relatives,  the  Pawnees,  to  this  locality ;  that  it  attaches  to  the 
rocks  as  a  fable  of  very  ancient  times.  Memorials  of  a  race, 
which  roamed  the  shores  of  the  upper  Missouri  long  before 
Assiniboin  or  Sioux,  Mandan  or  Ariccaree,  exist  all  through 
this  country,  in  traces  of  ancient  fortifications,  tombs,  weapons  of 
war  and  chase,  and  household  implements,  bearing  sketches  of 
domestic  scenes,  martial  deeds,  and  the  hunt.  Gone!  all  save 
these  memorials.  And  those  who  followed  them  are  gone  like 
wise,  only  excepting  the  remnants  of  the  relentless  Sioux,  who 
must  also  soon  disappear.  War  and  pestilence  (notably  the  small 
pox,  introduced  among  them  by  the  traders)  have  utterly  extin 
guished  the  Mandans,  and  have  destroyed  entire  bands  of  the 
Riccarees,  and  pushed  the  remnant  to  a  point  more  than  two 
hundred  miles  distant  from  these  storied  rocks,  which  mark  their 
former  neighborhood. 

NOTE  II,  PAGE  13. 

"Attested  down  the  years  unknown 
By  pictograph  and  rough-hewn  stone." 

The  rocky  tablets  of  Western  creek  and  river  bluffs  bear  in 
numerable  pictographic  records  of  Indian  parleys,  ambushes, 


70  NO  TE8. 

victories  and  defeats.  They  are  usually  merely  rude  outlines  in 
red,  blue  and  yellow  pigments,  laid  on  the  natural  surfaces  of 
the  rocks.  Here  it  is  a  hunting  scene,  in  which  the  hero  won 
his  "manhood  name,"  and  the  first  feather  for  his  plume.  There 
it  is  a  battle.  The  tribes  and  particular  bands  engaged  are 
denoted  by  their  dress  and  several  totems,  or  family  signs, — 
beaver,  badger,  fox,  or  what  not.  Certain  dots  or  lines  over  a 
prostrate  figure  record  "  the  killed "  and  the  scalps  taken.  A 
sort  of  petticoat  and  other  marks  indicate  the  number  of  women 
slain  or  carried  captive ;  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  record.  In 
some  places  the  outlines  of  figures  have  been  rudely  cJiiseled  in 
the  face  of  the  rock.  One  schooled  in  Indian  lore  will  read  these 
primitive  stone-paged  histories  with  scarce  ever  a  doubt  as  to 
the  interpretation. 

NOTE  III,  PAGE  17. 

"The  golden  moons,  that  come  again." 

Some  of  the  Western  Indians  poetically  term  the  summer, 
months  "the  golden  moons,"  and  have  a  pretty  superstition,  that 
Indian  Summer  is  caused  by  the  spirits  of  these  months,  return 
ing,  after  the  stormy  equinox  and  first  siftings  from  the  snow- 
clouds,  to  look  upon  the  beautiful  earth  once  more,  with  pensive 
regret,  before  taking  their  final  departure. 

NOTE  IV,  PAGE  19. 
"With  wild,  fantastic  trip  and  spring." 

This  is  the  character  of  male  dancing  among  the  aborigines, 
—  a  series  of  quick,  short  jumps  and  springs,  interspersed  with 
extravagant  gestures  and  grimaces,  either  comical  or'  intended 
for  earnest  pantomime,  in  which  struggles  with  wild  beasts,  or 
martial  combats  in  all  their  details,  down  to  the  act  of  scalping, 
are  depicted  with  horrible  distinctness.  While  the  men  dance 


NO  TES.  71 


the  women  look  on  and  applaud  the  pantomime  and  the  recitals 
of  the  heroic  deeds  of  braves  and  warriors,  made  iu  the  form  of 
song  or  speech  as  the  dancing  proceeds. 

NOTE  V,  PAGE  19. 

"Or  turtle  sliding  from  its  log. 
Or  loosened  turfs  that  seek  the  tide 
From  crumbling,  flood-washed  river  side." 

No  description  can  convey  an  adequate  impression  of  the 
solemn  silence  of  solitude  on  the  broad  expanses  of  the  Missis 
sippi  or  Missouri,  in  the  days  of  the  early  xoyageurs.  Imagine  a 
solitary  wyageur, —  his  frail  canoe  abandoned  to  the  noiseless 
sweep  of  the  strong  middle-current  of  this  wide  stretching  river, 
down  gliding  between  far-off  shores  of  illimitable  forests,  with 
no  living  thing  in  sight,  for  hours,  but  the  water  snake  or  turtle 
basking  on  some  floating  log.  At  such  a  time  one  hears  the 
whispering  ripple  under  the  canoe,  and  even  the  beating  of  his 
own  heart.  Then  the  plash  of  flashing  fins,  leaping  from  the 
water  in  sport  or  frightened  flight,  or  the  single  liquid  tone  of 
turtle  dropping  into  the  current,  is  a  startling  sound.  In  the 
flood  season  crumblings  from  the  edges  of  the  river  banks  are 
frequent,  and  often  hundreds  of  tons  of  earth  give  way  and 
plunge  into  the  swollen,  swirling  tide  with  a  mighty  sound,  told 
from  bluff  to  bluff,  and  repeated  far  away  in  the  bowels  of  the 
deep  forests,  in  echoes  of  thunder.  Lewis  &  Clarke's  journal 
says:  "At  one  point  a  part  of  the  cliff  nearly  three  quarters  of 
a  mile  long  and  two  hundred  feet  high  had  plunged  into  the 
river."  Further  on  the  same  journal  says  :  "  Shortly  after  mid 
night  our  sleepers  were  startled  with  the  cry  that  the  sand 
island  was  sinking.  They  scarcely  got  away  with  their  boats 
before  a  part  of  the  bank  fell  in  and  the  island  had  disappeared." 
The  author  has  seen  places  on  the  Mississippi  where  farms  of 
many  acres  have  utterly  vanished  in  a  single  season. 


72  NO  TES. 

NOTE  VI,  PAGE  20. 

"Were  prudish  dames  ne'er  disobeyed." 

Indian  mammas  are  presumed  to  do  all  the  match-making, 
and  courting  is,  theoretically,  dispensed  with.  But,  as  innumer 
able  legends  and  such  observations  as  appear  in  subsequent 
notes  prove,  the  theory  is  not  entire  master  of  the  practice. 

NOTE  VII,  PAGE  40. 
"The  wondering  menials,  mute  with  fright." 

Many  Indian  tribes  maintain  a  system  of  slavery  or  serfhood. 
Captives,  and  criminals  of  their  own  tribes,  are  put  to  menial 
service,  as  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  for  chiefs  or 
their  immediate  captors. 

NOTE  VIII,  PAGE  43. 

"Enwrapt  our  homes  in  midnight  flame." 

The  word  "  home  "  applied  to  any  savage  lodge  seems  a  mis 
nomer.  Yet  if  domestic  felicity  makes  "  home,"  there  are  many 
instances  of  it  among  the  aborigines ;  and  if  permanent  dwellings 
enter  into  this  idea,  the  Riccarees  had  these, —  comfortable  octa 
gon-shaped  and  cone-like  lodges,  covered  with  earth,  fixed  in 
permanent  villages,  guarded  by  police.  They  were  good  tillers 
of  the  soil,  raising  corn  and  melons,  beans  and  squashes,  not  only 
for  their  own  use,  but  to  barter  with  their  nomadic  neighbors, 
the  Sioux  and  Assiniboins. 

,  i 

NOTE  IX,  PAGE  45. 

"He  stands  condemned  his  spear  to  yield, 
And  toil  his  lifetime  in  the  field." 

The  degrading  of  warriors  and  hunters  to  tne  condition  of 
serfs,  for  violation  of  tribal  regulations,  is  a  common  practice  to 
this  day. 


NO  TES.  73 


NOTE  X,  PAGE  48. 

"Adorned  with  painted  birds  and  flowers, 
With  pictured  fruits  and  vines  and  bowers." 

The  thoroughly  bleached  and  finely  finished  skins  used  among 
the  tribes  of  the  Northwest  for  robes  and  coverings,  are  to  the 
Indian  artist  what  the  canvas  is  to  his  civilized  brother.  There 
he  displays  his  highest  genius,  and  his  designs  and  execution  are 
often  really  remarkable  ;  not  unworthy  a  place  in  some  of  our 
Academies  of  Fine  Arts.  But  if  his  patrons  have  no  stately  halls 
and  palace  walls  on  which  to  exhibit  the  triumphs  of  his  brush 
and  pencil,  they  do  him  the  honor  to  carry  them  on  their  persons. 
The  chiefs  delight  to  secure  the  finest  talent  of  their  tribes  to 
depict  the  exploits  of  their  lives  upon  their  robes.  For  several 
fine  specimens  of  this  kind  the  reader  is  referred  to  Plates  306  to 
312,  inclusive,  in  Catlin's  "North  American  Indians,"  Vol.  II. 

NOTE  XI,  PAGE  50. 
"Thy  shell-decked  couch  forsake." 

Borderings  and  other  decorations  of  garments  and  bed  cover 
ings  were  formerly  wrought  with  small  shells,  as  now  with  shells 
and  bead- work.  Some  of  the  designs  are  exquisite. 

NOTE  XII,  PAGE  51. 

"So  sing  the  amorous  youths." 

Padre  Domineck  and  other  writers  describe  the  youths  as 
going  through  the  villages  of  the  upper  Missouri,  on  moonlight 
nights,  singing  love-sonnets.  In  another  place  Padre  Domineck 
says :  "  Sometimes  the  Indian  lover  plays  on  his  flute  and  sings 
songs  of  his  own  composition  before  the  family  wigwam  of  his 
beloved.  Facilities  for  courting  are  not  wanting,  for  in  the 
simple  habits  of  savage  life  young  people  often  meet,  and  have 
opportunities  for  knowing  each  other." 


74  NOTES. 

NOTE  XIII,  PAGE  51. 

"Like  wine  the  matrons  blest  prepare." 

The  simple  juice  of  the  grape,  fresh  from  the  cluster,  is  the 
nearest  approach  to  wine  made  by  the  North  American  Indians. 
Some  of  these  hold  the  superstition  that  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Happy  Hunting  Grounds  stand  sainted  matrons,  pressing  the 
juice  from  luscious  heaps  of  grapes,  to  regale  those  who  are  so 
happy  as  to  reach  that  beatific  life.  When  they  see  a  purple  hue 
in  the  air  they  exclaim,  "  The  matrons  are  pressing  the  grapes!" 

NOTE  XIV,  PAGE  62. 

"Almighty  Te-wa-rooh-teh,  Spirit  True." 

This  is  the  Riccaree  (or  Ariccaree)  name  for  the  Supreme 
Ruler,  called  by  the  Algonquin  tribes  Gezsha  Manitou. 

NOTE  XV,  PAGE  65. 

Often  doth  sculptor  Nature  form 
Rocks  into  rugged  shapes  of  men." 

There  are  many  rocks  in  different  parts  of  this  country  which 
bear  strong  resemblance  to  the  profile  of  the  human  figure,  and 
these,  generally,  are  regarded  by  the  Indians  as  tutelary  genii. 

NOTE  XVI,  PAGE  66. 
"Then  slowly  changed  to  pulseless  stone." 

Lewis  &  Clarke's  version  of  this  legend  says :  "  After  wan 
dering  together  and  having  nothing  but  grapes  to  subsist  on, 
they  were  at  last  converted  into  stone,  which,  beginning  at  the 
feet,  gradually  invaded  the  nobler  parts,"  until  these  sacred 
metamorphoses  remained  in  place  of  the  translated  lovers. 


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